


walking on sunshine

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry meets Niall for the first time under what probably isn't the best circumstance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walking on sunshine

Harry meets Niall for the first time under what probably isn't the best circumstance. Okay, what _definitely_ isn't the best circumstance, if you're considering all that external stuff. 

It's maybe around four in the morning, and he and Louis have just exited the club, stumbling through the streets of London reeking of alcohol and bad decisions. Even after all these hours of dancing and getting as shitfaced as possible, he's still whining about the breakup, swearing that it's stupid and that the guy he may have slept with wasn't even that hot, that it's not _his_ fault that he was wasted that night. 

Harry nods as sagely as he possibly can, patting Louis on the shoulder whenever he stops randomly in the middle of the sidewalk and looks terribly close to tears. But that's usually right before he breaks into a fit about what a cocksucking asshole of a shit his ex is and, well. Louis has been Harry's best mate since like, year seven, and he's seen a lot over the years, but this probably tops the cake. He presses his lips very closely together and tries not to laugh because fuck, he's pals with a raving maniac. 

"What if I-"

"Nope," Harry interjects, taking Louis' arm and leading him back onto the curb. 

"You don't even know what I was gonna say!" he complains, staring accusingly at Harry and pouting. Louis likes pouting. Louis likes doing a lot of things, and that's pretty much why he's stuck in this situation. 

"'k," Harry agrees, looking up at the moon for a second and wondering how quickly he'd be able to fly up to it. Maybe Nick has a friend who could help him figure it out. Nick has bunches of super smart friends who this type of stuff. Harry has drunken Hatter type of fella and a nicotine-addicted sociopath. You know. "Say it."

"What if I go all Americano," Harry thinks to himself, _wow this is sounding like a bad idea already_ , "and like. Slash his tires and smash his windows."

"You two share a car," Harry reminds him. 

"Oh," Louis says, sounding completely dejected. He slows his steps down and has his thinking face on, the one that's gotten Harry arrested in three different countries and a ticket in five. 

Harry walks more quickly, and can't help but groan when Louis tries to catch up to him and falls flat on his face instead. "Why," he pleads aloud, looking up at the sky. The moon is shining brighter than usual, because his life is a joke and even God is laughing at him. 

And that's how Niall finds them, riding down the streets of East London, classic bomber visible even in the black night. Harry thinks about his age, sixteen days away from being legal, and he sits down on the sidewalk and buries his face in his hands.

Louis mumbles something into the concrete, and then throws up two centimeters away from Harry's bum. 

-

The police station smells like Clorox and vomit, and the guy who arrested them (Niall Horan, by the credentials Louis made him show to make sure they weren't caught in a horror movie) looks far too amused by this whole ordeal. Harry doesn't even think he's all that much older than them. Maybe around Louis' age, really. 

"Now left thumb," he says, laughing when Louis tries to put his elbow onto the ink. "Wrong part, mate," and Harry thinks he has a very, very nice smile. 

-

Two months pass, and Harry doesn't see him again. or really think about him at all. Kinda. Sometimes he sees blond hair, but they're not quite platinum enough, or the person who steps out of the cop car is the wrong one.

Louis and Zayn are back together and as completely disgusting as usual, hanging off each other and not having the common courtesy to be _quiet_ while Harry is trying to sleep and not think about how long it's been since he got laid. 

On the twenty-first, they get arrested for 'public indecency' and Harry sells Louis' grandfather's watch for bail. He possibly laughs while doing it, but he's never liked Keith anyway, cranky little shit. He gives away one of Zayn's paintings too, and it's not so much that he needs the extra money to get them out, but it's two in the morning and in his dreams, he was actually getting to fuck someone, and the ice cream shop down the street is still open. He buys a gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough, ignoring the pitying looks from Donna, the vendor (who has become way too accustomed to him) and if happy that his two _best friends_ walked to wherever, because that means he can drop ice cream all over the shiny leather seats of their car. 

He might cackle on the way over. _No one ever has to know_ , he thinks, shoving too many spoonfuls into his mouth at a red light and lamenting his woes. 

Harry immediately sees Louis and Zayn when he enters the station. Zayn is shirtless and Louis' neck is totally littered with lovebites and Harry throws up, just a bit, in his mouth. 

He hears the laugh first, rich and _pretty_ , if a fucking laugh could be that. He's staring straight at Harry, an eyebrow raised and a donut in hus hand. Harry kind of wants to laugh too, but wow, attractive guys holding food make me not okay. Like, at all. 

"Um," he says, hopefully making some sort of vague motion in Louis and Zayn's direction. "Bail?" 

"Right, yeah, 'course. You shoulda seen your face, man, you looked too happy to see them in a jail cell."

Harry says something lame like, "well, they deserve it," and he hears Louis complaining about what a terrible friend he is and how _rude_. 

"Not a good idea to insult the one bailing you out, mate," Niall says, taking a bite out of the pastry. Harry stares at his mouth for more than is probably necessary. Shit. He needs his ice cream. And his dreams. And also maybe a gun to shoot Zayn and Louis in the eyes with because can't they let him freak out in _peace_ , instead of ruining everything and rushing him to stop ogling the cop and pay the fucking bail, _wow_ \- He hates his friends? A lot. 

He can feel the heat rise up to his cheeks, and he looks down, like what the fuck is he thirteen years old - but Niall laughs, and when Harry finally goes over to complete the task he came for, he gets a small bit of paper slipped into his left hand and when he looks down he thinks, _oh, yeah_. Still got it.

-

Except not really. 

Fourteen days go by, and he happens to forget to call rather frequently. _Rather_ frequently. 

_It truly is a misfortune_ , he thinks to himself. 

"It truly is a misfortune," he says aloud to Zayn, nodding smartly and regretfully. 

"You are so fucking dumb it aches," Zayn responds, and jumps, landing on him, and wrangling around to try and get Harry's phone from his pocket

Harry yells out, "THEFT!" and tries to curl around himself, but Zayn is a grabby and evil little buggering shit. and he pokes Harry on the left side of his stomach, causing him to spasm from laughter and loosen up. And then he loses his phone to the one person he hates the most. And contemplates jumping out their third floor balcony. 

"Stop looking at the window," Zayn says, rolling his eyes and unlocking Harry's phone which is like _why_ ; he changes it on a daily basis and they still manage to figure it out every single time. "Where's the number?"   
.  
"Um."

"Styles."

"Louis took it and ripped it up because I was apparently being googly or something? He said to stop being such a sentimental little shit."

Zayn's face turns disgustingly fond, and then frighteningly serious in the span of three seconds. "We both know you have it memorized or saved on your phone, let's be real here."

Harry tries pouting, but Zayn just raises a brow, and presses his lips in a thin line, staring down at Harry’s phone and probably - definitely - going through his contacts. Harry sighs.

"Filed under 'death'," he admits. 

" _Filed under_ ," he murmurs under his breath. "I worry so fucking much."

Harry knows the meanest people.

Zayn shoves the phone against his ear when Niall picks up (Harry barely knows him, he shouldn't be calling him to first, but well, he's had dreams of his dick in Niall's mouth like, way too often, so that must make it okay), putting it on speaker and almost looking as if he cares about what happens. Funny joke; he just likes seeing Harry embarrass himself. 

"H'lo!" 

Harry hasn't really been getting his accent spot-on in his dreams because. "Oh," he says. 

"I was wondering when you'd finally call," Niall says, _laughing_ , and Harry pees on himself. 

"How do you know my number?" Which is, wow, wonderful first impression, really. Third impression, actually, but shouldn't this time be the charm? Fuck. 

"I, uh," Niall hesitates, and Harry thinks _huh, he gets unsure like actual human beings._. "I checked out your file."

Zayn starts choking on spit, and has to walk out of the room to catch his breath. Harry hopes that he dies.

"That's kind of creepy."

"So is your criminal history," Niall says.

"That's - " Harry can't help but snort out a laugh. "That's even creepier."

"Eh," Niall replies, and Harry is so smitten it's disgusting. 

"Do you, um. Wanna go get donuts or something?" 

"Fuck, yes."

-

They go to the one Liam, Harry's cousin, runs, and Harry knows that he'll be hearing about this one at every Christmas dinner for the next seven, but he doesn't care, because Niall's favorites are _chocolate-filled_ , oh, man, he's never been more attracted to another person before in all his lively years of life and living, he is actual death.

Donuts are the least important part of that day, though, because Harry might accidentally tell Niall that he's down to fuck, totally a mistake, and for once, God isn't pissing on his happiness, because he has finally found someone as easy as he is, and they have sex in a lot of weird and slightly uncomfortable positions, and it's _brilliant_.


End file.
